


what was in the box

by jayhood



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Bruce Wayne's A++ parenting, DC show us what was in the box you cowards!, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23250193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayhood/pseuds/jayhood
Summary: From my tumblr Jason Todd headcanons challenge. Anonymous asked:Jason had a diary before he died and he still keeps journals after the pit
Relationships: Jason Todd & Alfred Pennyworth
Comments: 9
Kudos: 54





	what was in the box

After Master Jason died, his room was untouched. No wonder: Alfred was careful when dusting there not to move anything out of place. If Master Bruce ever visited, early in the mornings, perhaps, when the rest of the household went to sleep, who would know with his talent of not leaving a trace? Mistress Cassandra never was interested in her second oldest brother, and Master Tim had preferred to talk to his ghost, preserved in a glass case downstairs.

Master Richard, for all he was mad Jason Todd “stole” his room as well as his place at Batman’s side (his place as Bruce’s family), never even breathed of getting his room back.

Even after Master Jason came back, and Master Bruce threw every little thing out. Or, rather, asked to do it from Alfred. It was the cruelest way his charge ever shoved a weakness to Alfred. It was the only thing that allowed Alfred to save an item of his he kept in a locked box in his room, since. It was a notebook, unlined, only halfway through it contained the unruly penmanship of the boy whose hand could not keep up with the speed of his thoughts.

He did not read it. It seemed insulting, somehow, to do that without permission. Almost as insulting as allowing the glass case to stay when the rest of the past has been retired.

Then things changed, somewhat. Master Todd and Master Bruce reached an equilibrium. While the former was not invited to any family dinners or portrait sittings, he could freely visit the Cave.

Alfred dreaded the moment Master Jason would ask about his old things. His books, perhaps. His guitar. His journal.

He had not. He already knew: one time, he could not stop staring at the corner the glass case stood in.

“Why didn’t he got read of it with the rest?” he asked, no one in particular, and so no one has given him an answer.

Acknowledge it, and you would have to acknowledge he broke into Manor, perhaps more than once. It very well could disrupt the fragile state of peace between them all.

Sometimes, Alfred thought he is a coward.

Thankfully, Master Jason was not.

They started their little rendezvous at a cafe where his childhood friend worked (she had not ever recognized Master Jason; Alfred was not sure, sometimes, if he was not deluding himself thinking he did).

During one of these meetings, the boy asked, who exactly disposed of his things, in what manner. Alfred confessed, with some trepidation. Master Jason only sighed, looking relieved.

“I’m glad it was you,” he said. “If it was him or - any of his new kids… I feel like they would either go through everything with a magnifying glass or burn it in a huge bonfire. You, ay least, knew to give away my stuff to a library, to shelters, to people who could use it, you know? That’s what I would have wanted.”

And that was as good time as any to admit that not everything was disposed of.

Master Jason actually smiled at that, embarrassed.

“I really thought I can publish it someday, can you believe that? Heavily redacted and, like, twenty years after we retired, maybe.”

“I do not see any reason why not,” Alfred said.

Master Jason waved his hand around.

“Nah. It would lack the culmination. Seeing how I wasn’t around to write the ending. And the stuff I’m writing now… ’s different.”

“Different how?” Alfred was genuinely curious.

“It’s still a journal. Just… I dunno. The mood is different. The protagonist has changed so much so suddenly, readers will accuse me of OOC.”

“Did he. So far, I have not seen any proof of that.”

It could be taken wrong, Alfred knew as soon as he said that. But Master Jason only frowned and shrugged.

“Maybe I should mail you the rest, you will see for yourself.”

He did not look too certain in his offer. Alfred did not push.

Then, Master Damian died. And then, he came back.

Master Jason, however, had not. He left Gotham under his own volition, and he was good - or, at least, alive, seeing as he did get around to mailing Alfred his journal.

More like an assortment of notes, really. Paper he wrote them on was obviously a lucky find most of the time. The oldest was almost unintelligible, due to both shaky hands and the soft texture of parchment, as well as the rambling nature of the words.

Alfred was not of a weak heart, but he decided to start at the ones dated the latest.

“ _ This one time, _ ” it said. “ _ I was truly happy. Not for long, just after I got rid of all my memories and before I found out I’m a murderer. Makes a guy wonder… _ ”

Alfred read it all. And the unfinished journal of the boy who once lived there, too.

He kept everything Master Jason sent him in that same box in his room. He was the only person, as far as Alfred knew, that Master Jason trusted with its contents.

And then Master Damian stole it.

**Author's Note:**

> You can send me new headcanon prompts here: https://redjaybathood.tumblr.com


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